What a difference 24 hours and regaining some control makes.

This time 24 hours ago, I was talking to a therapist R, at Complex Needs. I was extremely suicidal and had been for a week and a bit. The deciding factor this week had been my housemate stating that he had been tested positive for Corona and my now settled routine had become awash with worry. I had no control. I have to stay in, not knowing how to calm and soothe myself. My mind leapt to what it does when I am overwhelmed. Suicidal thoughts.

24 hours ago, R and I were planning an admission to hospital, me trying to be frank with someone in the team as to why I had cut myself off from them, why I hadn’t called my doctor, why I had missed both individual appointments (on the Friday) and the group one (on the Monday) or them back. Where I had gone for the last week and a half? Honestly, I was trying to gain some sense of support but also pushing away. My attachments have been messed up, not only by L telling me she was pregnant but by Corona. I have a hard time believing people care and love and support me. I needed help and that was my only way of telling them I needed it, by disappearing.

I thought I didn’t have any help, or guidance, that no one cared. I didn’t have any hope. I didn’t give any fucks. I was preparing for the worst, unable to see the light at the end of what has turned into a very massive tunnel. So 24 hours ago, R was trying to find me a place in a hospital, for a few days or nights or longer.

Unfortunately, it fell through.

Last night I just went to bed and tried, tried to not listen to the voice that had and has been undermining me, telling me I’m worthless. Telling me that I won’t get through this. That this is what I deserve. Telling me those maladaptive coping strategies are what I need to do. To cut, burn, punish myself. Pushing me closer and closer to the edge until I snap.

Butttttttt, I reached out. Complex Needs supported. My friends supported. My Mumma supported even though she didn’t know the real story of it.

The full moon happened. And when I awoke this morning, after not sleeping too well but after checking in with Complex Needs and saying what I’m feeling, having A tell me her long time listed phrase of ” It will pass” “All this will pass, that critical voice in your head, you’ve got to find a way of talking to it. Tell it to fuck off. Find a way to make it quieter”. I felt lighter.

I sneakily walked a little further, keeping my 6ft away from people but found some woods and took some photos. Regained some control. I had enough of people telling me that this is this. That voice of mine telling me this and that.

I asked a friend to drop off some groceries this weekend and I text Complex Needs to say thank you for the support. They replied “thank you for sharing “. And with that, I think I am okay…..

I think I’ll be okay for today.